Telephones
by Hikaru R. Kudou
Summary: FujiTezuka. When two individuals are separated by distance, when telephones connect them, when loneliness is healed. Fuji contemplates about the invention and the conversation.


**Title: **Telephones  
**Authoress: **Hikaru R. Kudou  
**Rating:** PG – only because there's shounen ai.  
**Genre:** General, Romance, microscopic angst  
**Pairings: **Fuji/Tezuka, Shinji/Kamio insinuation  
**Warnings: **Mild OOC (at least, I hope not…), clichéd plot, as well others I might have overlooked…  
**Summary: **Fuji/Tezuka. When two individuals are separated by distance, when telephones connect them, when loneliness is healed. Fuji contemplates about the invention.  
**DISCLAIMER:** I own only what are rightfully mine.

Authoress' Notes: When one is bored out of one's mind, it drives one to write the weirdest things…Oh, right, about the fic. Enjoy!

* * *

_'...The telephone only works in both ways...' Jason Mraz, You and I Both_

* * *

Pale delicate fingers traced the cream coloured surface of the telephone. Fuji Syusuke had been staring at the little device for some time now, his telephone book lay opened at the T section.

Some decisions are just too hard to make. Even for a genius.

He touched the buttons lightly in sequence, according to the numbers next to a particular name - the only name resounding in his head at the moment - without even consulting the book. Fuji had memorized the number by heart now that he had been repeating and repeating the same actions for days.

He wondered how Tezuka would react to this if he knew what Fuji had been doing since his departure to Germany.

'_...He would just look at me..._' Fuji smiled albeit with difficulty. '_...perhaps...even go as far as making me run laps..._'

- - - - -

Tezuka Kunimitsu slowly sat on his bed, rubbing a certain part of his arm that was starting to ache. Using his free hand, he massaged the other arm, his mind fighting the pain that shot all of a sudden.

Then his eyes fell on his silent cell phone.

Silence was something he never objected to, and certainly something he found to be necessary in most situations he was in. Having left Japan, he thought he could find peace and consolation in his new school...just him and his tennis...

He stared again at the item, a part of him almost expecting it to sing in response.

Despite the invaluable quiescence and hassle-free environment, Tezuka found himself wishing, quite desperately, for a familiar face to...talk to.

That did not sound right. Tezuka Kunimitsu was never the talkative type, and he knew some of his juniors' one cent on this particular fact - For every hour he listens, he'd only speak for five seconds.

Why this sudden change in attitude?

Perhaps, he was only hoping to hear a well-known voice again...

- - - - -

Playing a staring game with a telephone was something Fuji never thought he would take up. Unlike tennis, there was no way to determine the winner for this match. Either that, or the telephone would win, hands down. Fuji despised losing to anybody aside from his own buchou.

_'Why am I hesitating like this? I'm not being myself...'_

Fuji twisted the cord, imagining it to be Tezuka's hair. Then he paused, remembering that he had never twirled his buchou's hair before.

There was nothing between them, except being teammates and schoolmates. No matter how much he desired for Tezuka to return his feelings, the bespectacled never did.

And Fuji being Fuji, did not stop trying. He saw that Tezuka did nothing to stop his advances...only, with his taciturn tongue and stoic countenance, at times even Fuji felt lost. Tongue-tied. Frozen.

As much as he wanted to make Tezuka his and give himself to Tezuka, he felt it was quite unfair to force him into a situation he would feel...most uncomfortable in.

Sadists are, after all, still human beings.

- - - - -

Loneliness was beginning to grip him, hard.

Tezuka searched for an answer within himself as to why he never noticed all the little things in life before he left all of them behind. He fiddled with his cell phone, browsing through his list of telephone numbers, most of which included a small number of his relatives and friends.

His thumb paused when he came to a name he knew only too well. Just before he pressed a button, the device vibrated to inform him of an incoming call.

From Fuji Syusuke.

Tezuka's face softened on the spot. "...Hello?"

"Tezuka? Am I...interrupting something?" Fuji, from the other end of the line, sounded placid as he asked politely.

"Not at all."

Relaxed, "How's everything there in Germany?"

"Everything's fine."

"That's good."

"Aa...Why did you call?"

Fuji's smile, had it been any wider, would have deafened Tezuka's ear. "Why...? I think...it's because...I have nothing else to do."

"Fuji..."

"Or...is it because I wanted to tease somebody...?"

"..."

"But most of all...I wanted to talk to you."

Tezuka leaned his back against the wall. "Very well."

An awkward, unwelcomed pause hung in the atmosphere.

Fuji, breaking the silence, began relaying an account of what occured during practice that afternoon, from the topic of Kaidou and Momoshiro's squabbling; the latest version of Inui's formidable juice and its new ingredients; how Oishi handled everything on court; to how Fuji - by a sly twist of fate - had been an uninvited guest when he walked in on Kamio and Shinji who were crushing each other's lips at a private corner of the street courts ("I'd like to know why everybody disturbed us. First it was Tachibana-san, then came that irritating Yamabuki player Sengoku who tries to hit on Kamio again. Doesn't his luck ever run out? It's unfair - why am I so unlucky? Later Echizen and that Momoshiro appeared. Kamio forgot about me - us - and fought with Momoshiro about his bike again. Why isn't there any decent, private place on this world anymore?") and how Fuji, out of generousity, had suggested to him a few places where Shinji should try going to with Kamio.

Tezuka felt a whisk of yearning for not to have been part of the scene.

Then Fuji asked questions, to which Tezuka answered briefly. Another pause followed next.

"It's getting late, isn't it?" asked Fuji. "Tezuka?"

"Yes."

"...I guess I should hang up now. You need your rest."

"...You too."

Fuji's breath seemed a bit louder. Tezuka assumed he was sighing...

"Thank you for calling."

"My pleasure. Good bye."

"Good bye." Tezuka removed the phone from his ear. Unbeknownst to him, he just missed something Fuji said.

- - - - -

"I miss you..."

The receiver stayed clasped over Fuji's ear even after Tezuka ended the call.

_'He didn't catch it...'_ Fuji replaced it on its holder slowly.

Fuji knew something like this would happen. Telephones, however helpful they are in shortening the distance between two individuals who are on opposite sides of the globe, can never replace one's presence in the flesh. This was what contributed to Fuji's indecisiveness in the first place.

His heart had leapt up, somersaulted in jubilation upon hearing that familiar deep voice close to his ear, as if Tezuka Kunimitsu himself was standing next to him, breathing the same air. But Fuji was hard to please.

Happy as he was to have had the chance to speak to Tezuka, a small voice said that the conversation could have been better. It felt like Fuji was talking to himself...

He knew Tezuka was listening to his every word. Nonetheless Tezuka, who only gave one or two sentences to respond to Fuji's entire paragraph, had not participated in the conversation actively the way Fuji had hoped.

But what was it about Tezuka that intrigued Fuji before anything else? What made the seed of love towards the unemotional teenager blossom in Fuji's heart? Was it not Tezuka's own personality itself?

So at the moment, why did Fuji find this trait...off-putting?

_Loneliness.___

Tezuka's absence affected everyone, Fuji the most. Yet when he called him, Tezuka sounded...normal. Himself. As if he was a machine, devoid of sentiments.

Even though they were mere friends, even though Fuji was the one harbouring emotions towards the buchou without Tezuka's in return, Tezuka should at least hinted something.

Fuji missed perceiving Tezuka's signature scent flavouring the air, his distinctive physiognomy that continued to haunt Fuji in his sleep, his seriousness about tennis, and his dashing style when he was in action on court. In short, he missed everything about Tezuka.

Fuji hoped Tezuka felt the same way despite the way Tezuka sounded.

He straightened just as the telephone rang. Thinking it must be for his sister, he answered it.

"Hello, Fuji residence."

"Fuji."

"...Tezuka?" He silently wondered what Tezuka would want to say now instead of before, when he called him earlier.

"I forgot to mention something."

"What is it?"

Uncertainty. Nonetheless Fuji's patience was rewarded eventually.

"...I miss you."

Fuji's eyes shot open, but in spite of himself, he regained his composure immediately. "...I miss you too." _'So much it hurts_,' he added. "Tezuka? I want you to come back as soon as possible."

"That's what I intend to do."

Fuji understood exactly what was hidden underneath Tezuka's simple words. "Good. Say...are you turning in already?"

"Why?"

_'Maybe...telephones are not so bad after all..._' Beaming, "I want to talk to you longer. Are you okay with that?"

And Tezuka rarely objected, if ever, to Fuji's advances from then on.

[ o w a r i ]


End file.
